


Blood for Blood

by Borlaaq



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Complete, F/M, Mostly Platonic, Spoilers, Stormblood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borlaaq/pseuds/Borlaaq
Summary: And Papalymo still remembers what she said all those years ago: “I feel like I'm abandoning them, you know, like I'm running away and turning my back. But I am no use to them as I am now.”Series of oneshots about Yda, Papalymo and everything they will give for Ala Mhigo and each other.Spoilers for patch 3.4 onward.





	1. Prologue.

Papalymo knows Yda. He knows that her knees are scabbed and scarred. She's broken her knuckles four times. Her favorite color is red (—like the fire, like the sun, like the blood in her veins and like the statues of rock she prayed to). She doesn't drink because it reminds her of Ala Mhigo. Papalymo knows exactly what her eyes look like and when she has them twisted shut. She's hiding scars with gloves and high boots and her mask is both physical and metaphorical. Yda is running — still.

But Papalymo doesn't know what she's running from and he won't ask. He's never had to ask because he always just knew. And he won't take to asking now.

Yda is not innocent. She is a wildfire — unpredictable, dangerous. She learned to throw punches before she could even walk. She was born to fight and born to win. Her knees are marred not only because of her fights but because she would spend nights on her knees, praying. And Rhalgr give to her the blood of her enemies and Rhalgr give her courage.

And Papalymo still remembers what she said all those years ago: _“I feel like I'm abandoning them, you know, like I'm running away and turning my back. But I am no use to them as I am now.”_

Yda was always one for ritual and promises. “ _I'll join this '_ Cirlce of Knowing' _on one condition_.”

He remembers being hesitant, distrusting and she reaches for his hand. He allows her to take it and it surprised him someone so young could have such a rough touch. Yda was never soft. Her hands are stained with blood and duty, even when she is young and bright. (—He misses her smile, back when it wasn't forced and her eyes weren't distant.)

She presses her blade to her own palm first. He watches as she drips the blood into his palm. Its hot and red like a fire. Her voice startles him, _“Rhalgr accept our blood-word. I will be back.”_

Papalymo can't help but gasp when the blade cuts into his hand next. It's a surprise and his vision blurs. Their blood mixes and its a feeling he will never forget. A feeling of heat and rage and power. Yda holds him up.

“ _Rhalgr go with us.”_

Papalymo swallows, _“Rhalgr go with us,”_ he repeats, shakily.

They are bound to each other and bound to Rhalgr and the land. A city stretching out behind them. The King of Ruin would win and Yda would miss the burn of the cinnamon ale. Chocobos don't smell like Griffins. But they leave it behind and Yda does not once look back.

Not until they are both running and the Crystal Braves are right on their heels. Yda looks back then.

“Do you smell that?” Yda pauses in the streets of Ul'dah. They can hear the commotion behind them.

“We are attempting to avoid death! Stop thinking with you're stomach!”

“It's Ala Mhigan ale.”

Papalymo will never admit that Yda's stomach saved them that day. They took a sharp turn, tossed their linkpearls and the Ala Mhigan refugees are more than willing to help them escape the city.

Sand is hard to run on but when they make it to Little Ala Mhigo, Yda finally takes a drink for the first time in years. She grows distant, though, and Papalymo helps her blend in and stay away from people she may know. They grow apart but at night Yda takes his hand and traces the scar on his palm.

Yda stays stationary for an unusual amount of time. Until—

She looked up to her father, Papalymo discovers, even when she won't speak but he knows the way she flinches when Gundobald speaks. Yda stammers and stutters and in the end, just like Papalymo knows, Yda runs.

The thing about Yda is that she will never turn down a fight and that you would never expect Yda to be a coward but Papalymo finds her begging her God for courage and strength and she wants to go home so badly that it hurts Papalymo's chest.

He straightens his shoulders and grits his teeth.

“We're returning to Mor Dhona, Yda.”

Her fingers linger against the God-Stone and her knees ache.

“You'll help me, won't you, Papalymo?”

He wants to reach out to her but he doesn't. He hesitates but then whispers, “Yes, of course.” He won't tell her what he plans. Not yet. She is hurting and she is desperate. He is too. But Yda has always been stronger than him.

Yda is hauntingly silent then but she does express her intent to return. Papalymo doesn't speak when she does. Everyone knows he will follow her. Yda has always been the leader, didn't they know? Papalymo watches her settle down into a seat and he knows she's closed her eyes. He approaches the Warrior of Light.

And Tupsimati feels so strange and so right and so powerful in his hands. But he would help Yda, of course he would.

-

Sometimes Papalymo catches her dancing and that is when he remembers that like lightning strikes and starts a blaze, Rhalgr is the storm and Yda is the fire.

He is trying to contain the storm in her blood and it won't last forever. She will see her people free. Papalymo doesn't know what he will do if she realizes that her home is already gone and not every Ala Mhigan wishes for her to be a savior.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Yda is used to leaving things behind and moving on. She's perfected the fake smile and the ability to just. Walk. Away.

She left her home behind, her father and all of her belongings. With nothing but her sister's hand in her own, she set off to the Shroud. She had to be strong, for herself and for her sister and everything she left behind. She could not show weakness even when she was so sick of begging and begging for Succor from the Elementals. She wanted a home, for her, for her sister, for her _people_.

It wasn't granted. Yda faked a smile, took her sister's hand and. Walked. Away.

From Desert to Forest to Snowy Mountains, Yda left things behind repeatedly. Again and again. And so when the two of them arrived in the Hitherlands she was fully prepared to be turned away from Sharlayan. But enter a cocky lalafell who wouldn't mind his own business. And Yda wasn't below begging, no of course not. Papalymo showed his weakness as intrigue and pity and Yda begged and begged. She played her cards and she would make a home for herself and her sister. And a name for herself because if she had power, a title and a place she could save her people.

Yda was not and is not stupid. Yda is tactical and willing to play those she has to. She never meant to be manipulative, but that is exactly the role she fell into.

But Yda is used to leaving things behind and so with her Sage Mark and her new companions, Yda left the Snowy Mountains and, this time, her sister behind. She had power, a title and a place and she would just. Walk. Away. She promised, though, this time she would be back. She had to be back. Right?

It never ended, though. As the moons pasted, her perfected steps and movements would become habit. She wouldn't become attached to stone or people or places. Honestly, she is scared because in the end, she walks away. She can't even control it anymore; she burns every bridge she crosses.

Just like she walks away from Vesper Bay, hands full of boxes and her insisting Papalymo hurry. A fake smile, again and again. But she wouldn't miss the bloodstains or the dark, lonely halls. She settles down quickly and only Papalymo asks her late at night if she is okay. Her mask is off and her eyes are tired. She drops her fake smile.

“It never gets easier.”

And it doesn't.

The new halls fill up with blue uniforms and new friends but she is ready to leave again. It's a feeling in the pit of her stomach and she tries to ignore it. She tries to keep her new friends closer but Papalymo knows she's holding herself at a distance. He helps her keep her mind off of it by giving her extra work.

Yet, in the end, when it dawns on her she has to walk away again, she realizes it's too much.

“This is so _stupid_! We're the Scions of the Seventh Dawn! The ones who stand between this realm and the evil that's trying to destroy it!”

Yda decides she's done giving up without a fight.

-

“You cannot actually be thinking about joining this _Resistance_?!”

“If you don't wanna help, Papalymo, you are free to leave,” she says the words simply, without a second thought. The weight of them does not dawn on her. She never actually thinks he would ever—

“I will then.”

She turns, meets his gaze. They always made jokes about going separate ways. She takes in his face, dirty and dusty. He is so very tired. He looks his age and suddenly she realizes that of all the years they've spent together and how much he's helped her that she has just always taken him for granted. She can't find any words and her mouth opens and closes. She swallows.

“They're my people,” she says meekly.

“And you always rush into things without thinking. We just escaped death. I refuse to run back in to greet it.”

“The only reason we survived was because of them!”

Papalymo has already turned away, “Open your eyes, woman! Stop thinking with your fists!”

Yda clenches her jaw, “Goodbye, then.” And despite all her promises to herself, she gives him up without a fight.

He watches her leave, leaving a trail in the sand as she drags her feet. She doesn't look back. Papalymo feels empty and the night air is suddenly cold against the his sweat drenched skin.

The days and nights following are long and hard. Yda pushes herself, using ever piece of knowledge Papalymo had ever given her. She wants to make him proud and prove to him that she is capable. She will free her people and she will do it alone if need be. She sleeps less and less, unable to face her own dreams. She is scared and even surrounded by her own people, she feels alone.

Papalymo, on the other hand, finds himself wandering the desert. He doesn't know where he can go. His linkpearl is gone and he has no way to find out whether the Warrior of Light and the other Scions are dead or alive. He has a lot of time with nothing but his thoughts and nothing to distract him.

And so, after over a week, Papalymo finds himself at Little Ala Mhigo.

The guards start quite a fuss and Papalymo knows better than to drop her name. He doesn't want to out her if she hasn't done so herself. He tries to insist he is here to join the Resistance but they are overly wary of outsiders, especially lalafellin outsiders and for good reason given their treatment in Ul'dah. He tries to look past the guards to pick out one of the Ala Mhigans that helped him escape Ul'dah in hopes they recognize him but trying to look past two brutes of highlanders without resorting to ducking between their legs proves to be difficult for Papalymo.

It is Yda who eventually shows up to see what all the commotion is about. Papalymo's face lights up when he sees her and she gives him a lazy grin but her exhaustion shows through.

“He's with me, boys.”

The guards look at her, “What do you need a little dune-rat for?” The guard can't keep the disdain from his voice.

“ _Pardon you_?! I will have you know I am a Plainsfolk!” Papalymo exclaims, his voice shrill. Yda has to stop from laughing. He curses under his breathe about how _undignified_ they were for not being able to tell a Plainsfolk from a Dunesfolk.

Yda quickly talks over his swearing, “I hired him. Good with magic since we seem to be lacking in mages.”

The guards exchange looks and then drop their shoulders, “We'll tell the Griffin to keep and eye on you two.”

Yda wrinkles her nose, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” she can't keep the sarcasm from her voice.

Papalymo quickly rushes to her side and she leads them back to her room, which is a small hole in the rock with a curtain. The cot and floor are covered in maps and battle plans and bad drawings. The table is empty, with nothing but a bottle of Ala Mhigan ale.

“I'll see if I can find another cot, but there's not much room,” she mumbles.

“Yda—” he starts, an apology already on his tongue.

“Don't,” she says almost sharply. She takes a deep breath and then adds softly, “It's good to have you back. I don't understand a thing about politics,” she practically shoves a pile of papers at him but her hands linger against his, “Help me out here.”

Papalymo chuckles, “It's all about being delicate, Yda.”

“Are you saying I can't be ' _delicate_ '?” She feigns offense.

“I _know_ you cannot be delicate.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for 3.5 and im so sorry everyone im so sorry I made jokes about this and I even wrote this happening and then went 'at least canon will never be this bad' and then it happened and I can't believe this.

It's a ball of light and Yda cannot tear her eyes away. Rhalgr's name is on her tongue but she swallows it. Mouth dry, eyes red and swollen — she balls her fists. And hadn't she said she would give it all to see Ala Mhigo free? And hadn't she screamed, just moments before: _'Rhalgr take you, Ilberd! Rhalgr take you and your men! This isn't how we free our home!'_

Then the ground shook. Papalymo yells over the noise and Yda tries to understand his words.

“Take her! Please, you have to take her!”

Yda's heart breaks and she wants to pick the lalafell and drag him out of this herself. Whatever the primal is (and she holds her breath because she has an idea that she doesn't want to think about), they can defeat it together! Like always. They're in this together.

Papalymo had once took Yda's hand and he had said with tightly furrowed brows,

“ _My dear Yda, you depend on me too heavily. What will you do when I am gone?”_

And Yda had laughed in his face, _“They'll have to go through me to get to you, Papalymo! We're in this together.”_

The sky is alive with light and energy. Red and white and power of destruction. Blood and prayers had finished the ritual and Yda knows better than anyone the name that was on the fallen's lips. The air is crackling and hissing. Yda's head hurts and she has to remind herself to breathe. It can't be. They didn't summon—

She takes a step forward but Thancred's arm around her waist knocks the wind out of her. She can barely scream but she pushes the words from her throat and she meets Papalymo's eyes desperately. He has to look away from her because he can't stand it. She can't believe he is doing this. Doesn't he understand what's on the line?

He promised to be there for her. They would see her homeland free _together._

And Papalymo had known even then that Yda would have to learn.

-

For her whole life, Yda had worshiped Rhalgr. It was all she had at times; the only stable thing she could believe in. She had prayed for destruction and strength. How many times had she wanted the god himself to smite the Garleans and free her homeland? How many times had she found herself begging on her knees until they ached and bled? The Breaker of Worlds. The God of Destruction.

But it wasn't supposed to happen like this. No, she refuses to believe that the twisted image of her god lay in the sky just above her.

The smell of blood stings her nose and her mind is numb. The cocoon of the primal lit up the night sky. The name of her god had been on all their lips and she knew enough about primals to know the answer.

Rhalgr had taken Papalymo from her. Of course, what was a calamity anyway? Blood, death and destruction. And she had prayed and she had helped. She never wanted this. She just wanted her home back. Now she doesn't know what she wants. Yda doesn't know what to believe in. Her gods take and take until there is no more. Primals would drain the land dry and then what was left?

She chokes on a sob. Thancred glances back at her from over his shoulder but he doesn't approach. He will have bruises all along his back but he couldn't deny that look in Papalymo's eyes. Thancred didn't know to approach Yda; it was never his place. It had always been Papalymo or Moenbryda who helped her when she was down because she was never one to seek out the comfort. That didn't mean Thancred's heart didn't ache for her though. He knew what it was like to lose so much you think yourself lost as well. He hopes that Yda will pick herself up as she always does, but he has his doubts now — as did everyone.

The air is stale but in the end, Thancred has nothing left to do but trust that Papalymo knew what he was doing. He hopes Yda can find comfort in trusting in this also. Thancred hopes that Yda will find a way to let the weight off her shoulders and learn to take her mask off. She has been strong for too long. She is staring to bend and he hopes when she breaks, it will help her accept all that she has lost.

Thancred does not want to see Yda bitter and he hopes that it will never come to that.

-

Papalymo would give anything for Yda and he knew that she would do the same for him. They had a special connection and they could read each other better than they could read themselves. Papalymo knew Yda loved Ala Mhigo. She didn't have to tell him and she wouldn't. She wasn't good with words and instead depended on her actions. Papalymo understood.

She, alone, would be on the front lines to save Ala Mhigo and Papalymo knew this. It was never his place — never his war.

But that's not to say Papalymo knew it would end like this.

With so much unspoken; it all happens too fast. Papalymo is proud and that pride drives him. He, alone, is the only one who knows the spell. Of course, the rest of the Archons knew the price but Papalymo had always been the Greatest Student. He hates it, though, because Yda has lost so much and he has to twist his eyes shut and even his breathing.

This is, after all, for her.

And he still hates it. But he knows Yda. He knows her better than she even knows herself and he knows she is stronger than she gives herself credit for. She will move on. He has taught her everything and, if anything, their time apart had proved to him that she is ready. He is so very proud of Yda and he would never do this if he didn't know she was strong enough to continue on without him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Perhaps the worst part is, after six years, Lyse can't tell where Yda ended and she begun. It isn't to say she changed, no, Lyse grew to become Yda. She did not change because that would imply that she has knew something else. To be completely honest, Lyse is Yda now, everything Yda was is everything Lyse has become.

Lyse wanted to be strong. Lyse wanted to be Yda. And Papalymo had just wanted Lyse to be happy. It hurt him, though, at first because Lyse was so alike Yda already. There had been little acting needed, simply combat training. Lyse caught on so well and Papalymo was proud in a way that made his chest ache.

Perhaps the worst part is, after six years, Papalymo replaced Yda with her sister. It is a steady growth of guilt in his gut but he knows that this is what Yda would want. And hadn't Yda — the real Yda — once said:

“Don't dwell on the past. Moving on is the strongest thing a person could do.” And it was those words she lived (and died) by and those words she passed to Papalymo.

Papalymo would be lying if he didn't appreciate Lyse's presence. He would have never gotten over Yda if it weren't for her. Training her to be as proficient as the former Archon kept his mind off of it. Lyse, is, however Ala Mhigan and Yda's sister. Pugilism came easily to her.

And so, in the end, Lyse and Yda were one. But Papalymo, in private, would take her hands and say,

“Someday you will have to walk your own path, my dear Yda.”

“My path is beside you, Papalymo.” Like her sister before her — like her now.

But some paths ends. The cobblestone turned to packed dirt but as they went, it became less and less traveled and eventually, it ebbed away into nothing. There was grass and wildflowers but no path — no place where Lyse could see where Papalymo would tread. Because Papalymo wouldn't be walking with her anymore.

She feels it when his aether left. Her hands start to shake and then the burning on her neck. Tears prick at her eyes, both from the pain and the realization. It's over. Papalymo is free. No longer contained to this plain by the cocoon. She at least is thankful for that. But...there is nothing left now, she thinks, nothing left of Papalymo. Her Sage Mark is gone and his aether returned. She wanted to keep the Sage Mark — if only just to remember him. She knows it couldn't be that way. She had been bound to him and now, as he is free from this place, she is free also.

She doesn't like it. It's a weight she sorely misses.

But, and a bitter laugh escapes her lips, she would move on. Push herself forward. No longer as Yda because it's time for Yda to rest. Papalymo is gone and there is nothing holding Yda here anymore. Lyse decides she would let them be together. She drops the mask, the physical and the metaphorical and raises her eyes to the empty sky.

She will miss Papalymo and the last thing she can do in his memory is to respect his final wish for her. To walk her own path. And instead of Rhalgr's name on her tongue and in her blood — it's Papalymo's name. She no longer wants Rhalgr to go with her.

“Are you watching, Papalymo?”

Papalymo is and was proud of her and if he could see her now, it would be no different. Lyse turns her back on the sky and she prepares to paint the sky red. Everything she does is for Yda, Papalymo and Ala Mhigo. Everything she does is for herself and all of that, every part of Yda and Papalymo and Ala Mhigo is what makes her Lyse. She knows who she is now. No longer hiding in Papalymo's shadow.

Lyse walks. Away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but sort of an introduction to later chapters.


End file.
